Of my encounters that I remember with depression, the first time I didn’t know what it was that was happening to me, and eventually I stepped out of it. The second time though, it got more intense and I freaked out. Upon searching about it and talking about it to my family, mentor, and friends, I came to know the medical terms for what I was going through: depression and anxiety. And panic attacks too, which is the worst. From the excerpts of his next book on mental illness, ‘Notes on a Nervous Planet’, given at the end of this book, Haig lists down the things that mental health problems are not; one of them is that metal health issues aren’t a result of a growing awareness about mental health issues. This is what I want to talk a bit, because for me the thing that causes me even more trouble than the illness itself, is the confusion around it.
Am I really sick? Is it really depression or is it just a freaking-out-response towards the pressures of life that is now closing in on me? Is this anxiety or panic attack an illness of its own or is it the effect of some life pressure causes? When does the usual melancholy and stress that I feel because of, well Life, take the form of illness rather than just the general worry and sadness? Has my knowledge about these mental illnesses increased my chance of having them? Or even worse, has my awareness about these problems of the mind become the tool that I use to get away from the inevitable challenges of life? And even if it is a debilitating illness, why me? Why do others going through this same life full of challenges do not get mentally ill? But, is this review going to consist only of questions? Let’s try to answer some of these questions.
Depression or anxiety don’t start as such. Early symptoms triggered by any external or internal cause progress eventually into these illnesses. It is depression and anxiety when you have much of their symptoms and more importantly cannot escape them, not matter how hard you try or how long you wait. Normal worrying and sadness isn’t at all as worse as these illnesses; the difference is day and night when look back at it from a distance. Knowledge does increase sorrow, but it’s from personal experience that we know that suffering from depression without awareness can be punishingly worse. Moreover, there’s really no knowing clearly the exact contributions that awareness, life challenges, and so on, have had in causing the illness or in curbing it eventually. And it is you because of genetics, high sensitivity, how you were raised, the specific workings of your mind, and more.
Haig’s book accompanied me this past week as I battled my mind inside and life outside amidst the wake of yet another breakdown. I know accept that I really am mentally ill; that it is the cocktail of mental illness, depression, anxiety, and panic attacks, that has sucked dry all the peace, light, and hope from my life. It is not me who’s condemnable for this drama of misery, dread, and despair, but the black dog, the racing head that’s on fire, and the heart that alarmingly beats, that needs to be accepted, examined, and treated. Depression brings your life to halt, but didn’t let it; I want to learn to live with it. I’ve refused so far to see a psychiatrist, although I’ve experimented with antidepressants myself, and I’ve refused to just abandon my job-hunt, competitive exam preparation, and just go home and be depressed in the quiet and calm of my room. But this breakdown, as well as this book, might’ve convinced me that I need to see a doctor, even if it is for the 5th time, and trust that there’ll be a possible and lasting cure; that I can take a break and go home, allow myself the emptiness of life to heal and start again with renewed energy and hope.
I may feel like I cannot afford another break, and that my life, like ever recently, has become so demanding that I cannot just stop but have to keep accomplishing one thing after another. This here is a hustle of kicking off a career or ending up miserable in your thirties. But this sorting thought originated in my mind the other day, that maybe this depression is here for a reason, like it was before as well: to help me rid myself of things that I myself am not capable to do on my own. Like it is a mechanism of the mind of filter out the sticking, chronic issues that have built and built over the years and I’ve not been able to throw out myself. My previous depression forced me out of a life that wasn’t livable for my anymore, yet which I couldn’t decide myself to leave. This time, maybe it is here to put an end to my attachment to a toxic relationship and to an uncaring girl that I’ve been miserably suffering from for the past two years. A crush so beautiful that I never thought I’d be with became a girlfriend whom I wanted to conceal from everyone and possess so badly; yet I was vulnerable before her authority to do exactly the things that would cause me intense pain. Her refusal to free me and my refusal to let her go caused both of us huge amounts of unnecessary hurt, both of the heart and the mind. She might’ve finally moved on, her recent silence and cold/detached behavior made me realize it, and hopefully that is true because this depression I guess is my eventual, long-awaited, and long pondered upon farewell to her and our hopeless union. Maybe this depression is here to help me get rid of this intense, hurting, and hopeless attachment to her once and for all. Yes, you can let her go, despite the fact that how overwhelmingly and closely beautiful she was to you. She’ll merely be a past now.
If anything, Haig’s book has allowed
me to write and think about my depression, even when I was exhausted, spiteful,
and over with it. Haig’s casual way of talking about an illness that is
otherwise so overwhelming, intense, atmospheric, debilitating, melodramatic,
and serious, really helped me see these illnesses in a more accessible and
approachable manner without freaking out. Whether it is Haig’s talking about
his own experience of mental illnesses like he’s having a conversation with
you, or the unburdening and random chapter titles throughout this book –
reading this book when my depression was at its most intense felt kind of
relieving and settling. A writer/reader himself, and me only the former, I
related to Haig’s accounts of him relying on books when everything else in the
world either scares us or becomes utterly unpleasant and meaningless. As I
abandoned the other books I was reading, this book, in an unintentional way,
became the book I relied on during this past week.
Ratings: (I can’t rate it like I can’t rate a close friend) October 3, 2021_